Office closed: Will return mid-week/Poem: My New Religion

Baby Grace, born August 15, 2010

Scott and I are going to Ocean City NJ after my Poetry Group at Weinrich's. I called up to reserve our usual hotel, the only one w/an indoor swimming pool, but Watson's was filled up due to a Bike-a-thon in town. We'll be staying at another huge hotel, this time on the Boardwalk.

I realized that I'll be getting emails for several days w/o being able to answer em so - I don't know how to do the auto-reply - so I thought I'd leave a message up here for Stephen in case he wants to talk to me about an article I asked him to write.

What a fantastic issue this'll be! I say that about them all. It's all about the candor of our Contributors that is so helpful to our Readers.

Since Scott is mostly bald he's talked about going to the barber and having his head shaved. Well, he came in this morning and showed me the handsome results. "It takes getting used to," he said, looking in the mirror. "The guys at work will give me a hard time." Think of the difference between how guys talk and how women coo over each other.
My new fabulous thermos I got for $2 at Impact Thrift. In mint condition. I've got it filled up w/ice for our trip to the shore. Next to it is a paper cup I saved b/c I liked the design so much, even tho I no longer tipple.

MY NEW RELIGION

for Grace Catherine Deming, b. August 15, 2010

The other night while waiting for sleep
I wanted someone to thank --
my granddaughter had just been born
a girl with a round face that rolled like
a large oiled billiard ball
on her many folded neck
fingers still wrinkled
from the water inside
I mistakenly called “the
amniocentesis” it’s been so long
and then I wanted to thank Them
for the sliver of light
that passed through the
thick maroon drapes of my bedroom
as morning came
oh who I shall thank,
I asked myself,
clasping my hands in prayer
as the gentiles do
then spreading them wide and
arising from my bed and
bowing before Allah like the Bedouins
do in their tents but
these efforts did not reside well
with me
my daughter who grew up without a father
said, Try praying to the Divine Mother, mom,
Her name is Kali and she’s fierce,
her love is so fierce she has destroyed her
children with swift decapitation, her
belt is laden with skulls,
but she is kind to those she loves.
too fickle for me, I said, like Hera,
or my own mother,
I shall have to create my own religion,
pretend a god resides in the heart
of all living things
in this leaf that falls now from the
maple in the backyard
there! I’ve said it.
the god in all things
the kernel of goodness
without which a tree would fall
upon itself
which is sewn inside each flower
till the day of her departure
I like the sound of god
it looks good on the page
did he leave the scene long ago
after he banged us into existence
or was it all a mirage
a gently loving mirage
that matters not,
thank you for the brief
slice of existence
gone too soon:
a cardinal flying past
my window.